Fools with Starry Eyes
by Lemony Apple
Summary: This fic is so totally COMPLETED! Little Meg Giry was a little jealous of Christine Daae. When she finds the Phantoms mask after his escape, Meg recieves a alarming note that demands its return. MegErikcombo of both book and musical
1. A Mask and Ballet Slippers

Fools with Starry Eyes

Chapter I- A Mask and Ballet Slippers

* * *

Meg Giry, who was barely sixteen, was climbing down the portcullis into the Ghost's lair. She was a bit frightened, for Christine, her most peculiar friend, had disappeared after the Opening, and most probably, the Closing Night of _Don Juan Triumphant_. The metal was slippery and hard to hold on to. Meg clung as hard as she could against the wrought iron that was the gate to the Ghost's lair, and lowered her body to the ground. 

When her body collided with the water, there was a loud splash, and, (perhaps too late!) put her hand at the level of her eyes. Oh, thank God. The Punjab Lasso was not around her neck. She felt her neck to make sure. There was no rope. Meg breathed a sigh of relief, and moved about the lair, searching for anything that might be a clue to Poor Christine's whereabouts.

As Meg walked, she noticed many pictures of Christine. They were all hand drawn, some were charcoal, some were painted (many were water colors, some were oil, some were very well done, some were sloppy and dashed off) and some were just sketches.

There was a beautiful charcoal one that Meg noticed. She paused to look at it. It was Christine in her Hannibal dress, the one where she sang the beautiful aria. Meg closed her eyes and remembered that moment, and the wonder she felt, that Christine could sing like that- And just weeks ago, she was a rusty, squeaky hinge!

Meg leaned forward, drawn to the beautiful drawing. In the corner, there was a figure leaning against the curtains of the Opera Populaire and gazing at the radiant Christine. Meg realized with a jolt, that it was herself. Her painted self looked wistfully at Christine, like she was wishing that she could dance with as much feeling and talent as Christine did with every note that she sang, not just in that aria, but in every aria. It was indeed what she felt! How could the Ghost have known what she felt? The Ghost was not present!

She scolded herself. Her Mama would have said, as she so often did, that just because the Phantom did not appear to be present did not mean that he wasn't. Meg, feeling a bit disturbed, moved from the paintings to the 'throne'. In it was carved musical notes. On closer inspection, Meg realized it was the notes to Christine's lines- 'No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy/ nor dreams within her heart but dreams of love'.

Upon it was something white. Meg did not recognize what it was, and picked it up, and examined it. With horror, she realized it was the Ghost's mask. It was the very mask of a cold blooded killer that stalked her best friend and her fiancé!

It seemed an innocent thing for an evil soul. It was even white.

The other members of the mob were slowly approaching. Her mother stood behind her. "Marguerite," she said, scared. "Marguerite, you must give me that mask, now."

Meg, ever the stubborn girl, shook her head slowly. "No, Mama, if he shall ask for it, I shall give it to him. Until then, I shall keep it safe."

* * *

Meg hid the mask underneath her bed, right next to her favorite pink ballet slippers. There it stayed for five months, until she received a most distressing note; 

_My dear Miss Marguerite Giry,_

_I am writing this to you to humbly beg for a return of a precious object of mine that you currently are in possession of. I hope that you will be obedient to both myself and your charming Mother, and return my mask to myself, which I have observed is by your ballet slippers that you use. _

_I humbly beg of you to return my mask to its rightful owner, so I will not have to harm you, or your mother. I assure you that I am both excessively fond of both of you, and it will grieve me greatly to have to do harm to either of you charming Girys._

_Please return it to me by Thursday, which is the opening night of Faust, so I might watch the performance._

_I am your obedient and most humble servant,_

_The Opera Ghost

* * *

_

**Author Note**- Okay, guys! How did you like it? Well, I guess you guys might/might not know what the pairing is for this story. If you did not figure it out, I won't spoil it for you, and you'll wait for the next chapter for it to be revealed.

But, of course, you have to review to get the next chapter, so here's Miss Meg Giry, and Miss Christine Daae, to sing/dance a nice little review song. For you.

**CHRISTINE**:

Think of this fic  
think of it fondly,  
when its said goodbye.  
Remember it once in a while -  
please promise us you'll try!

-**Meg dance break-**

When you find that, once  
again, you long  
to take a moment and review -  
if you ever find a moment,  
we will love you

We never said  
this fic was really good,  
or as great as the sea -  
but if you can still remember  
stop and review for me...

-**Meg dance break 2**-


	2. No One Knows Who I Am

Fools with Starry Eyes

By: Lemony Apple

* * *

**Author Notes:**

I've decided that I think mood music and disclaimers are silly. I think disclaimers are silly, because we are on Seriously, if the author wanted to publish a story on their story, don't you think they'd make a sequel? And for the poseur authors, they wouldn't publish their poseur story here, would they?

Also, I think mood music is silly, because, seriously, I have no idea who sings half of the songs they suggest, and have never heard half of the songs. I'm not sure if my music download thingy has them. (I use Rhapsody, for all of you wonderers.) Oh, and I wrote this chapter entirely on Jekyll and Hyde (and Phantom, of course) music.

That said; here's the disclaimer anyway:

**Humble Disclaimer:**

Don't own. I wish.

_Chapter II- No One Knows Who I Am

* * *

_

Meg, needless, to say, was extremely startled upon receiving the note. Everyone was quite sure that the Phantom had gone far away as possible from the Opera Populaire! Yes, everyone was quite sure! She even pulled the Mask away from the hiding place, to look into its eyes, so it would assure her. To her surprise, there was a note on it! It was written in red ink, the same red ink that was on the threatening note she had just received.

_Miss_ _Marguerite, _it said, in the Phantom's usual threatening politeness that was so surprisingly eerie.

_I am waiting._

OG

_PS: Your slippers are frayed. It would be wise to consider a replacement._

Was that it? Meg turned over the paper, but nothing else was written on it. If he was so close to getting his mask, why bother to ask for it? It was not logical!

Perhaps as Christine had said to Raoul, once during the Masquerade- that the Phantom did indeed intend to be a gentleman! Meg was standing behind a pillar when she heard the whole thing. Christine was acting so strangely, Meg could not help herself to eavesdrop. Well, at least the Phantom did indeed ask for it back. Meg would fret if the Mask had suddenly disappeared.

But there was still a question to be answered: should she return the Mask? Would the Ghost _really_ hurt her or her mother, if he was so- wait a moment, oh yes- 'excessively fond' of them both?

Well that was a silly question, of course he would. He was more than a tiny bit mad. He had killed more than two people in his lifetime! So would it be safe to return it? She dearly hoped so, because she always enjoyed dancing to Faust, as it was her favorite Opera.

She decided that since she carried such precious cargo, the Mask, the Ghost would not dare harm her. She would appeal to Christine if he tried anything was to happen!

"Well," she said, somewhat offended, "It was not very gentlemanly of him to make such a comment about my slippers! They are not frayed!" and to prove her point, she pulled them out of the box, and examined them, expecting not a single fray.

To her surprise, they were frayed, just like the Ghost said. She threw them back into the box, and looked at herself in the mirror.

Was she always gaunt like that? She could not remember. She supposed that once her blonde hair was not as flat as it was at that moment, or her green eyes so dull. She took out her pink hair ribbon and tried to redo her hair style- a princess style, the only hairstyle seen as the most modest by her Mother, but to no avail.

She remarked to the mirror that she thought she looked dead. Suddenly, the mirror replied back; "Dead? No, Marguerite, you are quite alive."

Meg gasped. Was she going mad? No, no, mirrors do not talk, let alone pronounce any one dead or alive! She hurried from the room, intent to give the Ghost his Mask as soon as possible, and be rid of this and madness. She might even convince him…

* * *

Meg decided to return it to Tier One Box Five, the Phantom's Box, as it had been dubbed. It was the only logical spot to choose, as the other openings to his Lair that had been discovered had been sealed tight.

She gingerly approached the Box, where every ballet girl carefully avoided. She herself refused to go near the Box before this day. Rumors circulated that it was full of booby traps, and if anyone unexpected approached the Box, they would be hung before they could realize they were dead. It was for those reasons only Madame Giry, being skeptical of any and all superstitions, approached the infamous Box Five.

When Meg's hand touched the handle bar to open the door, a cold hand covered her mouth, and its fingernails dug into her cheek, painfully. She tried to scream, and smelt what she imagined what Death smelled like, but she, luckily, perhaps, did not faint.

The hand released her, and was enveloped in shadow. "Have you got my Mask?" It asked, curtly.

"Y- Yes." She said, searching around in the pockets of her bodice. She produced it, wrapped in one of her best handkerchiefs, and then handed it to the Shadow. It looked like the figure was looking down at the wrapped Mask.

"What's this?" he said. "You wrapped my Mask?" The Voice sound highly amused. It unwrapped it, and let the handkerchief drop to the ground. Meg let out a cry of shock.

"Sir, it was given to me by my father!" She bent to pick it up, but the hand shot out again and grabbed her arm in a painfully hard grip so she could not bend down.

"It will still be here when I have gone." The hand let go of her. Meg noticed that it was sickly pale and ghostly.

"S-Sir, are you well?"

"As well as I can be."

"You are so…" Meg decided it would be unwise to pursue it any longer. She decided to ask what was on her mind. "Are you the Angel of Music?"

No answer.

"You taught Christine to sing so beautifully, did you not? Are you equally skilled in dancing?"

The Ghost did not answer, again.

"Will you please instruct me? Little Jammes is so wonderful in her dancing, and I want, just this once, to be better than someone."

"Jammes dances like a cow, her whole family does. Your talent easily outshines both of them."

"Please?" she said.

The Opera Ghost slipped the mask on his face and emerged out of the shadows. Meg gasped and fell back, hitting her back hard on the door of the Box, and slid down at the floor. The Opera Ghost stood above her, glaring down at her.

Dear God, did he have yellow eyes? The Devil's eyes!

Meg quivered as he thundered down on her. "Woman!" he said, and it seemed the very floorboards underneath her were shaking and afraid. "I am not your servant, so do not tell me what to do."

He stepped over Meg and disappeared, his cloak billowing after him. Meg felt like she had been slapped in the face. It would be unwise to pursue anything about Dancing Lessons further, yet Meg was a stubborn little girl and would not take no for an answer.

"Please, Sir!" She called after him.

He did not return.

* * *

When Meg returned to her dressing room, she found a note, tacked to her mirror. Meg was very careful to take the tack out of the mirror, so as to not break the mirror. The note said;

_Dear Marguerite,_

_If you do want me to teach you to dance with spirit, you will have to submit to my demands and advice. If you are ready, step through the mirror._

_Your obedient servant, _

_OG_

Meg did not need to even consider. Looking for a way to open it, she ran her fingers over the frame of the mirror, and hit a small button. The mirror opened, and with one last look back at Christine's old dressing room, which was now her own, she walked through the mirror.

* * *

**A very quick note: **

No review song, but a humble beg and thank you.

**Lackaz- **Thank you for being the first reviewer! I'm very thankful! Your dancing amuses me, keep on dancing. W00t, man.

**All Apologies-** Thank you for your review! Oh, and I'm glad you like the song! DDD

**Phantom of the Phanfics- **Awesome name, man. I hope this is a good long chapter for you, cause this is definitely past my all time longest for a chapter. Aww, I feel loved.

**Countess Alana-** Thank you for reviewing, I hope this is fast enough!

**Cloud in Crimson**- Dude, AWESOME name! You were right, Erik did say humbly too many times. Thank you for pointing that out

**Orli's-** Thank you for the review! Aww, thanks so much about the title… to tell you the truth, it's from the song 'Its All the Same' from _Man of La Mancha_.

**Nade-Newberrie- **Christine and Meg take a bow Teehee. Sorry, I love pairing cliffhangers.

**L'Wren**- Yay, I should do review songs more often! Meg does a little jig Thank you for the review!

And last, but certainly not least,

**Amber- **Thank you!

Okay, so review, and you'll get a pretty sweet chapter, and some angst/drama/sexy Erik!


	3. Submitting or Else

**Fools With Starry Eyes**

**Chapter III- Submitting or Else**

* * *

Meg walked through the mirror without a second thought. She wondered if the Phantom had Christine walk through mirrors the same way she just did. It was all very peculiar. Looking around, she observed a little corridor that gray stone walls. It was nothing special; in fact it was very grimy and dirty. The Phantom was waiting there, holding a torch and leaning against the walls. 

The Ghost- or a man, as Meg supposed she should call him, for he was very much a man- extended his hand to help her down the stair. She took it, and followed him down the corridor.

There was almost no light at all, and Meg was constantly stepping into puddles, or onto rats. Meg screamed when she stepped on her third rat. Meg leaned onto him, her hands on his bony shoulders, and tried to kick away the rat. If there was anything she hated more than not being noticed, it was rats. The Ghost-Man started and looked back at her. Once he realized what Meg was so scared of, he waved the torch in front of the rat, and it scurried away.

"They are mere rodents." He said, brushing off her hands. "They will not hurt you." He sounded disgusted at her, and how she was touching him. She apologized quietly at her foolishness, and they continued on, in an uncomfortable silence.

There was one thing that the Ghost-Man did that Meg quickly realized- he would not look at her in the face. She felt extremely self conscious and began smoothing her hair, as it was her nervous habit. Finally, she gathered up courage and asked why he was not looking at her.

"I assure you, Madame, there is nothing to look at." He said, coldly, and flicked his cape at her in a way to say 'Get In'. They had finally arrived at the lake, and there was his boat, resting on the shore. She sniffled and got in the boat, offended at what he had said. No gentleman would ever insult a lady!

It was then determined by Meg that the Ghost-Man was no gentleman. But still she wondered… she turned around to face him and asked, point blank. "You must have a name… what is it?"

The Ghost-Man again seemed to be surprised by her. "I have a name," he said, looking like he was debating whether or not to reveal his name. "It is Erik." Finally, he revealed his name.

"I'm Meg," she said, accustomed to introducing herself after another did.

"I know who you are!" He snapped. "If you are going to be a fool with starry eyes during my lessons you will get out and swim back to your dressing room!"

"I'm sorry, I was just making conversation." She said. Why did he always make people feel so sheepish? He would be much more liked if he was at least amiable.

"Did Christine know your name?" She said… Oh dear, she shouldn't have mentioned Christine…

He grabbed her arm in that painful grip and turned her face to look at him. "Don't mention her ever again!" He pushed her away, and she almost fell over the bow and into the water.

She got out without his help and stood on the shore, waiting for him to beach the boat. He did so quickly, and led her, both not saying a word to each other, to his Lair.

It had changed so much in five months, it was unrecognizable. The beautiful charcoal and oil paintings were torn and flung across the rooms, the awnings were town down, there were leaks, and his throne was toppled over, and a part of it was broken. Meg felt very sad to see such beautiful things destroyed so carelessly.

"Did you…?" He nodded. She wanted to say that he shouldn't bottle in his emotions so much… but he might bring out the Punjab Lasso. She had half a mind to keep her hands at the level at her eyes, just to be certain.

"I'm sorry." She said simply. She was still quite shaken. Maybe the Dancing Lessons wasn't such a good idea after all.

He pushed her into a room and started playing the piano. It was one of the Faust ballet numbers, and it had not been choreographed yet. She looked at him, wondering what to do.

"_Dance_!" He growled. Having all the encouragement she felt she would receive from him, she pirouetted a few times around the room. Erik slammed his fingers on the keys, standing up, and moving the piano to face the room. "No, no, _NO_! You're not feeling the music, and you just look like a fool! Feel the emotion in the piece this time, and try again!" He sat down, and he continued to play, this time banging on the keys with rage.

Try again? She thought she was doing alright. Well, she could try a pirouette there, and jump there, and a twirl there, and at the bridge…

Erik banged on the keys again, and Meg began to wonder how Christine ever managed to sing like she did, under these circumstances. "You still are dancing like a fish! Do it again!"

So she did it again, and again, for three hours. Meg felt faint, and Erik declared they needed to be getting back, for the Ballet Rehearsal was starting in an hour. Meg was seriously considering skipping the rehearsal all together.

* * *

However Meg found herself just in time for rehearsal, and she was extremely drained. Her mother, who was extremely less lenient on her than the rest of the ballet dancers, yelled at her all practice, and Little Jammes still out shone Meg easily. 

Meg sincerely hoped that Erik was watching. She wanted him to see just how much his work was cut out for him.

Apparently she was channeling his spirit, because all of a sudden, his voice came booming out of the chandelier.

"HEAR THIS NOW!" It yelled, "MARGEURITE GIRY WILL BE THE LEAD DANCER IN THE NEW PRODUCTION OF _FAUST_ OR I WILL KILL WHOEVER IS!"

There were screams, a few ballerinas fainted, and even the Ladies Jammes fainted. A note floated from the chandelier, recognizing the red scrawl, Meg caught it before anyone could see it.

_Marguerite,_

_I want you to know that I am doing this at great risk, so you best be very grateful._

_Your Obedient Servant, etc_

_Erik_

Meg gulped, and above there was an ominous voice, singing _Othello_. Meg knew it was Erik's voice. For the hundredth time that day, wondered what exactly she got herself into.

* * *

**Authors Note-**

Okay, so maybe Erik wasn't really sexy in this chapter, but expect bare skin in the next one.

Seriously. No shirt or anything. I promise you. Seriously. 100.

And I promised you guys a review song. Sorry if it isn't really funny… my great uncle just died, and I really don't feel very funny.

Well, here's Erik to serenade you.

-**Erik**-

This is the moment!  
This is the day,  
When you send all her doubts and worries  
On their way!

Every endeavor,  
She have made - ever -  
Is coming into play,  
Is here and now - today!

This is the moment,  
This is the time,  
When the momentum and the moment  
Are in rhyme!

Give her this moment -  
This precious chance -  
She'll gather up my past  
And make some sense at last!

This is the moment,  
When all I've done -  
All the dreaming,  
Scheming and screaming,  
Become one!

-**Meg dance break**-

This is the day -  
See it sparkle and shine,  
When all She's lived for  
Becomes hers!

For all these years,  
She's faced the world alone,  
And now the time has come  
To prove to them  
She's made it on my own!

-**Erik and Meg tango**-

When I look back,  
I will always recall,  
That moment when,  
You all review and then,  
That would be

The greatest moment  
of them all!

I know that one stunk guys, but please. Review one for the Gipper.


	4. Faust

Fools with Starry Eyes

Chapter IV- Faust

* * *

The next day was hell for Meg. Because of Erik's interference, Little Jammes and the rest of the ballerinas were determined to make her life terrible. In the span of twenty four hours, Meg's hair was pulled; her shoes had glass in them, her hands were stuck in warm water, and various other mean ballerina pranks.

And for this little interference, Meg came to dread her Dancing Rehearsals. She gave it her all, but she was always exhausted, only to be yelled at for her Mother for not giving enough emotion. Before the day was done Meg was crying in her dressing room.

Erik was watching this all through his two way mirror. He had expected some sort of reserved amusement, but he felt sad. Was it his fault? He made this little girl cry?

Marguerite finished her weeping when there was a knock on the door. Little Jammes entered the room and closed it behind her with a sharp snap. "Well, Little Meg," she said, moving into the center of the room. "Are you ready to give up your lead dancing role?"

"If Erik- I mean, the Opera Ghost thinks I can do it, I will take the part!" Little Marguerite snapped. She wiped the tears away from her sparkling green eyes.

"Who's Erik? Is he your suitor?" Little Jammes said, laughing. "Although I can't imagine how you managed to make him do this for you- you've never had an admirer before!"

Marguerite stiffened. "You talk as if you've had hundreds!"

Little Jammes smiled, meanly. "I've had more than you. Who would blame them? They could have you, only you no talent, or me, who got here on my own, and didn't have my mother get her in for me!"

Marguerite suddenly stood up, suddenly vibrant. "I dare you," she said, "to say that again."

Jammes bent over and looked Marguerite in the face. "Your mother is the only reason you're here."

Meg, while standing up, reached up and grabbed a chunk full of Jammes' perfect black hair, she gave it an almighty tug, and a bit came out into her hand. Jammes shrieked and dived at Meg, and they were off in an almighty spat. They rolled around and smashed many valuable items.

Finally the door opened, and in scurried many ballet girls, all shrieking and expecting to play more practical jokes on Meg. However, they did not expect their ring leader to be rolling around, rather bloody, on the floor with their subject of their pranks… and the victim throttling the ringleader.

"Marguerite! _Marguerite_!" Someone had called Meg's mother, and the blonde was pulled away from the brunette. "Marguerite, have you gone mad?" Madame Giry slapped Meg's face, extremely hard. Meg ran from the room crying.

* * *

Fortunately, since _Faust_ was having a dress rehearsal, Meg had no time to feel upset with herself, nor guilty that she broke Little Jammes' nose.

With all the emotion she could muster, and all the demands Erik had ordered, she managed to dance with all of her might and energy. Feeling pumped out with every move she made. Meg had never danced so well.

In addition to her major dancing turn around, Meg was also given a few lines. In her sweet mezzo soprano voice, she announced that the Mistress had arrived, that dinner was served, and many other chorus parts.

The Emperor just happened to be passing by during the rehearsal of the new _Faust_ ballet, and stopped by in the middle of Meg's big solo. After twenty turns and jumps, she exited the stage with her dance partner, who was supposed to be very much in love with her. The Emperor was immediately taken with her, and asked for her name from a passerby.

"I am sorry, monsieur, but I have never seen nor heard of her before." So the Emperor was sorely disappointed that he could not find out who this mysterious girl was.

Erik, who observed all of this from the shadows, figured that his was a good way to get rid of Marguerite before his feelings for her intensified… damn it.

"Her name is Marguerite Giry, daughter of the ballet instructor Madame Giry."

The Emperor, who was very startled to receive such news, hurried out of the box, and onto stage. He found Marguerite, and asked her about herself. Erik could see them chatting. He couldn't hear them, but…

He needed to think.

* * *

Meg was honored that such a man admired her, truly she was. But she had promised Erik another lesson after dress rehearsal. They were to meet in Box Five, the same box the Emperor had been sitting in. Meg knew Erik would be waiting for her.

Climbing up to Box Five, Meg noticed one of Erik's trapdoors lying open. She looked both ways, and then entered in, closing it behind her.

Trying to remember the way to Erik's Lair, she went down the corridors, and took many wrong turns. Finally, she ended up in the back of his house, a way Meg had never seen before.

She heard splashing in the Lake, and intrigued by the sound, she investigated. She did not expect what she saw. Erik was swimming in the lake, his Mask off and lying on the ground by his shirt.

The man was half naked, and she had followed him. She turned around to leave, but unfortunately all the crinolines in her skirt gave her away.

"WHO'S THERE?" Erik called, coming out of the water, and seeing Meg. She closed her eyes, embarrassed, and opened her eyes.

He had put on his Mask just in time, but unfortunately, not his shirt. Water was glistening- oh what was she doing?

"I'm sorry!" She ran out of the place as fast as her skirts would allow.

* * *

**Authors Note- **Okay, I know that this chapter really sucks. In fact, I really don't like this chapter. But the shirtless Erik does give it some appeal.

Sorry, guys. Really.

Please review though, 'kay? Please? PLEASE?

Oh, and thank you for all of the people who commented about my great uncle. That's really sweet of you guys.

Oh, and guess what, you guys, you can IM me! My AIM is XxoCindyrellaoxX . I have other I.M. addresses, but I'd really prefer if you would IM me on that one. I would love to hear from you guys.

In addition to reviews, of course. ;)

**Small Edit-** After a review (thanks Crimson) I realize Erik went from moody, to like, terrible. So I editeded out all the crap. So here it is, in the non mushy form, and more easy. (The original problem was in my chapter planner, I misread it, sorry.)


	5. A Little Problem for Meg and Erik

Fools with Starry Eyes

Chapter V- A Bit of Trouble for Meg and Erik

* * *

"Oh, Marguerite," her mother said, as Meg passed. She was still very embarrassed about what happened down in Erik's Lair. "What great timing! Look who's here!" Her mother moved to the side and revealed none other than Meg's most particular friend, Christine Daae. Christine Daae had returned to the Opera Populaire. Meg could just feel the stunned silence, and knew that Erik was hiding somewhere in the auditorium. 

Christine, however, did not seem to notice, or perhaps she did, and was determined not to be scared. "Oh, Meg," Christine said, grabbing both of her hands and looking so happy to see her best friend. Meg suddenly found herself unhappily surprised to see her best friend, and felt rotten about it. "Raoul and I are getting married soon, and I would be so happy if you were my maid of honor."

Meg smiled and nodded yes. "Of course, Christine, you needn't ask." Somewhere off in the distance, she could hear Erik's sobs. She decided it would be better for everyone if she moved this little conversation away from Erik. "But, why don't we go get something to drink, I'm very thirsty." Christine led the way out, and Meg took a look around the Auditorium. Well, she couldn't see Erik, but with him you could never tell. That's what Christine had said to her once, and it was good advice. Meg closed the auditorium doors with a snap, and turned around.

"Congratulations!" She said, and meant it. "When is the wedding?" Christine answered next month, and they chatted like they used to, before Erik came. For a moment, Meg forgot all of what happened, with Erik and Raoul. They were just girls, laughing about silly things.

"I've heard you are now the lead dancer," Christine said, happily. "You must be very happy."

"I am," Meg said. She would have been happier if she had earned the position by herself, but she wasn't saying that, of course. Instead she asked about Erik.

"What do you know about Erik- I mean, the Phantom?" Christine paled considerably. Oh dear, she shouldn't have mentioned Erik…

"Why do you want to know about him?"

"Um… curiosity."

"Oh!" Christine looked visibly relieved, and proceeded to tell her all she knew about Erik.

* * *

Meg waited for Erik to open the mirror so they could begin her Dancing Lesson that night. However, he was late, and she waited for an hour for him to open the damn mirror. Finally when it slid back, Meg was so frustrated that she seriously considered yelling at him. However, all of the feelings slowly died after looking at Erik. 

He looked dead. That was what Meg thought when she saw him. He was more pallid than usual, and he did not look at her. He did not help her down the steps, and only touched her to steady her as he shooed away any rats.

Meg reasoned that it was probably because of Christine, and her being in the Opera House. She knew that his wounds were probably still fresh, and seeing Christine just made them worse.

In his favor, Erik did try to make Meg work, but he hit the wrong notes repeatedly, and perhaps out of frustration he started to weep on his piano. Meg, startled, went up to him, and put one of her hands on his shoulder. He did not slap her hand away, so she took this as a good sign, and hugged him.

His face against her chest, and hers against his shoulder. Erik's arms were not around her, as she knew they wouldn't, but they traveled up her body and then finally, rested on her arms. One on each of her arms… and then he pushed her away. Hard.

"I didn't ask for your sympathy!" He growled. Turning to the piano, he flipped through his sheet music, and then stopped at one, with lots of red notes on it (like 'exaggerate here', or 'stay on the vowel'). Meg looked at the title. It was 'Think of Me', from Hannibal. The notes he must have been for Christine, to help her practice it.

"Sing it." He said, playing it softly. Wondering if he lost all sense, she sang it.

Think of me  
think of me fondly,  
when we've said goodbye.  
Remember me once in a while -  
please promise me you'll try

When you find that, once  
again, you long  
to take your heart back and be free -  
if you ever find a moment,  
spare a thought for me

We never said  
our love was evergreen,  
or as unchanging as the sea -  
but if you can still remember  
stop and think of me . . .

Think of all the things  
we've shared and seen -  
don't think about the things  
which might have been . . .

Think of me,  
think of me waking,  
silent and resigned.

Imagine me,  
trying too hard to put you  
from my mind.

Recall those days  
look back on all those times,  
think of the things  
we'll never do -  
there will never be a day,  
when I won't think of you

We never said  
our love was evergreen,  
or as unchanging as the sea -  
but please promise me,  
that sometimes you will think  
o-o-o-... of me!

"Leave me." Erik said, pointing to the door. Meg opened the door and went to leave. She looked back at him. He was slumped against the piano, weeping.

* * *

**THINK OF ME** BELONGS TO ANDREW LLOYD WEBBER (THAT DARLING MAN) AND WAS PRODUCED BY A REALLY USEFUL GROUP. PLEASE DO NOT SUE ME OR TAKE DOWN MY ACCOUNT.  
I love you FF Net!

**A Small Author's Note-** Okay, thanks so much for reading this far : ) I'm so happy. Sorry for not having a review song this chapter, but I forgot the song it was supposed to go to, so sorry. I'll put it on the next chapter instead, okay? Sorry: (

Thank you for the reviews!

sends subliminal messages to review-


	6. No Walking in Shadows

Chapter VI- No Walking In Shadows

* * *

"Can you believe it, Andre?" Firmin said, throwing down the latest note from the Ghost. "The man was thrown out of this Opera House by an angry mob, and _still _he returns and demands things that are not his!"

The distressed manager collapsed in his winged chair. Andre handed him the envelope, and Firmin fanned himself with it. "It is not to be borne, Andre. We cannot go on taking this man's demands! He will sink us!"

Andre, ever the more patient man than his impatient comrade, rang for lemonade. Firmin drank both glasses. Andre just rolled his eyes.

"Firmin, you know that the only way to stop the Ghost is to…"

"Declare that I have gone insane?"

"No. The only way the Ghost is stopped is when he is dead." Firmin shuddered at this.

"How would we kill a Ghost?"

"He is man, Firmin," Andre said, taking a sip of tea that he had ordered as replacement for the lemonade. "If it is done in the right way, he will die."

"How do you suggest we do that?" Firmin said, disgusted with Andre's suggestion. "Remember that the police failed!"

"Well, how about in a different way?" Firmin, finishing his drama act, looked at Andre. Andre, sensing that Firmin did not exactly get what he was hinting at, continued. "Maybe we could take someone away that he loves, and therefore make him feel so lonely that he will emerge, and then we will have him."

"But who will we take away from him? Christine has gone and run off with that Viscount fellow..." Firmin stopped. "Let me see that!" He grabbed the letter out of Andre's hands.

_My Dear Managers; _it read,

_I am glad to inform you that I am most pleased with the dancing rehearsals. Your wise choice to put Marguerite Giry as the head dancer was surprising, and I am glad to see that you are finally coming to reason. I'm sure you will see that Marguerite Giry is more than competent. In fact, she is quite an accomplished singer, as well as a wonderful dancer. I peg her to be the newest Elissa in 'Hannibal'._

_However, it is my displeasure to write that you have STILL not paid my salary. (Twenty thousand francs, if you have forgotten). I am sure this is an oversight, and I will be expecting my salary forthwith. If you forget again, I will not promise you that your lives will be safe. _

_Yours, etc,_

_Opera Ghost_

"Well this is all the ammo we need against him!" Firmin said, after reading it. "Little Meg Giry has caught his eye!"

"Exactly," Andre said, sliding into his seat behind the wooden desk. "If we could somehow extract her away from him, dispose of her somehow…"

"We would get rid of the Opera Ghost!" they said together. They toasted to it, and clashed the glasses together, downing another flute of champagne.

* * *

The Emperor came again that day, Meg noticed. After another grueling practice (Erik had luckily given her the day off) for _Faust_, the Emperor approached her.

"Mademoiselle Giry," he said, extending his hand to help her down the stage stairs (she was very capable of doing this on her own, but saying this would be suicide), which she took, and descended down the stairs as ladylike as she could. Sadly, this was not very lady like. She tripped. Luckily, the Emperor caught her.

"Meg," he said, his strong arms catching her. Why can't Erik be this dashing? "Are you alright? May I send someone to fetch you a refreshment?"

She smiled up at him, and lowered herself into one of the Opera Seats. "No, I'm fine." Had did he just call her 'Meg'? She thought she heard him say 'Meg'!

Why didn't Erik ever call her Meg? It was always _Marguerite_! It really, really annoyed her.

More importantly, why was she thinking about _Erik _when there was a very nice Emperor waiting on her, hand and foot? "Actually," She said, looking at him with the sweetest, most innocent look that she had, "I think lemonade would be wonderful,"

The Emperor escorted Meg all over town, showing her where he was staying, asking her what plays she liked, and other polite questions. She was just dying for the formality to stop.

* * *

After their rendezvous, the Emperor returned to the Manager's office. "She is enchanting!" He declared. "If I were the man for her, I would consider myself the luckiest man alive!"

"Ah, Monsieur," Firmin said, cooing to the Emperor. "The lady is in peril!" The Emperor blanched, the dauntless knight coming out within him.

"What threatens the lady?" He said. Firmin and Andre suspected he would be sharpening his sword soon.

"She is being pursued by the Opera Ghost, who is madly in _love _with her! If he takes her to his lair, he will rape her, and keep her as his slave!" Firmin had no notion if the Opera Ghost would actually do this, or if the Ghost was even in love with Little Meg Giry; he just needed to prod the Emperor into action.

"The knave!" The Emperor cried. He drew a rather impressive dagger out from his boot. Ah, well, an Emperor must always be armed. "The scoundrel! I will slice him in two, for the safety of poor Meg's reputation!"

"Thank you," Andre said, sincere for probably the first time in the conversation. "For rescuing our dancer. We fret about her safety all the time! Meg will be very happy to have you as her husband."

"Gentlemen, Gentlemen!" a voice from nowhere bounced around the room, and Andre paled. "Do you really think I would rape a child? Believe me when I tell you, I too, have morals and limits. I am very offended you would insinuate such a thing, my _Managers_."

And as quickly as it came, it was gone.

Erik was furious. He jumped down one of his trapdoors, and into the control center of the Torture Room. He landed on the ground, on all fours, like a cat. His cloak was billowing around him, like devils wings. How dare they? How dare they say that he was abusing his relationship- nonexistent relationship, really- With Marguerite! He was a French gentleman and very proud of it, thank you very much.

As if he had feelings for Marguerite. As _if._ And to prove it, he moved out of the Control Room and into his Music Room, where he kept all of his parchment, ink and quills. Sitting down, he wrote a few lines. All he could muster, and wrote 'Little Mariette Jammes' on the envelope.

It was lies, all of it. However, the fantasy of never seeing Marguerite, Little Jammes, and the Managers was just too wonderful to pass up.

* * *

**Author Note**- Okay, sorry for the long wait. Actually, I really like this chapter. I don't know why. I think it's rather silly. Or maybe it's because I really like the review song this chapter. Well, I like it. I hope you do too! Woot!

Okay, to clear up some things about… stuff:

Meg didn't open the mirror the second time, because Erik's mirror is his door to his house, actually. Do you just open someone else's door without the owner's permission and waltz right in? (She's done it before, but only under extreme circumstances.)

Also, notice that Erik is more nervous about Meg and his relationship with her. Good sign!

Oh, and maybe you guys should be a bit worried about the Emperor. He's the Raoul in the fic.

-Meg waltzes in-

Well I signed on to see

If Lemony updated this fic!

It looked kinda nice

And so I said I might take a chance

When I read I loved it so

I couldn't wait to read the next

And then I reviewed it!

Each time I read it

I couldn't wait to read it again

I wanted to let Lemony know

I didn't know just what to do

So I whispered I love it

And so to get a new chapter, too

We reviewed it!

I reviewed it in a way

That I've never reviewed before

I reviewed it in a way

That Lemony would love to be reviewed forever more

Then she updated the fic

To read and read forever more

I felt so happy I almost cried

And then I reviewed it

And then I reviewed it!

* * *

**Love you guys, and don't forget toAIM me.**


	7. Fanning the Fire

Fools with Starry Eyes

Chapter VII- Fanning the Fire

* * *

_Miss Mariette Jammes,_

_I am bewitched by your skills. I would be greatly honored if you would grant me an interview, and possibly consent to become my new protégée. I, of course, am astounded by your beauty and grace and can only sign this letter with the hope of yes,_

_OG_

Yes, Erik knew it was all lies. He could only write a few lines, because he could not stand what he was writing. He felt nothing but animosity towards Little Jammes, it was well known, and would call her dancing anything but bewitching! Erik sealed the envelope with his skull shaped sealing wax stamp and went to deliver the letter.

He had written it because he knew Little Jammes would hoard it over Marguerite. She would leave the Opera, marry her Emperor and have ten children and walk around the park on Sundays, just like what Erik always wanted. And Erik would _laugh_. Oh, how he would _laugh.

* * *

_

Little Mariette Jammes was a smart woman, or so she prized herself to be. So when a note from the Opera Ghost suddenly appeared on her dressing room vanity, she had a feeling that this might be trouble for her, or perhaps Meg Giry, if she could twist it in the right direction.

Jammes smiled to herself. Well, the letter certainly wasn't what she was expecting. Instead of a death threat, she got a love letter? _From the Opera Ghost?_ Just who did he think she was? Well… this would be a good chance to lord over the letter infront of Meg and Christine Daae (what was the stupid girl still doing in the Opera Populaire anyway? Didn't she run away with that stupid Viscount to get away from the Ghost in the first place?) Meg had looked worried sick over something, and Christine had looked dazed, as always.

So Mariette left her dressing room to go visit Meg and Christine. She came upon Meg and Christine by the Barre behind stage. Meg was stretching. "Look," she said, showing her letter to Meg. "The Opera Ghost sends his love to me! He means to make me his BRIDE!" She laughed. "Meg, it looks like the Ghost has transferred his affections from you to me! I guess you must get another Dance tutor so you can keep your lead dancing role!"

* * *

Meg looked meekly up at Christine. She was in tears. "Oh, Meg, please don't say you are taking lessons from the Angel- I mean… the Phantom?" She looked so pathetic. Both girls were in tears. "Meg, he's so dangerous. Promise me you will stop taking lessons from him! Promise me!" 

Meg, full of a heavy heart for a reason she didn't understand, nodded. "I promise."

* * *

Andre, Firmin and the Emperor were shopping that day. They were looking for a ring that would be for their lead dancer. The Emperor had been planning his proposal since they had last spoken. He had decided that the Opening Night of Faust, which was the next day, would be the announcement of their betrothal. He was quite certain that he was in love with Meg, and was determined, more than ever, to have her as his wife. 

Andre and Firmin declared their experiment in psychology to be a huge success.

* * *

**Authors Note- **Okay, sorry for such a short chapter. Fortunately, it's a four day weekend for me, so expect another chapter up sometime tomorrow (a nice looong one). 

Oh, did I mention that the next chapter is the climax of the story (IMO)? So, since its climax time, here's a little pre-action preview, so you know what to expect.

**Meg:  
**You know, I really don't think I can hang on to my promise with Christine, because I am oddly drawn to Erik. And he looks great with his shirt off.

**Emperor-proposing-  
**I love you; be mine forever!

**Meg:  
**WTF? I just met you a few days ago!

**Madame Giry:**  
Your slippers will **be** tied! Your hair will **be** up! You **will** dance like John Travolta in _Saturday Night Fever_!

**Erik-  
**I really regret sending that note to Jammes now!

**Meg**:  
Will you take off your mask?

**L. Jammes**:  
Kick her out of the Opera house!

Okay, so that's it for the previews. I love you guys,andplease don't forget to _review_!


	8. Murder, Murder

Chapter VIII- Murder, Murder

**Author's Note on this chapter: **(coming at the front of the chapter 'cause you guys need to know this, and I need a change)

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! Thanks for reviewing, people! OOOH, I love you guys so much.

However, people really need to remember that Erik had five months to recover over Christine that I didn't write. That's a normal persons healing time, IMHO. I planned it that by this time, Erik is in love with Meg, but he doesn't know this. _He doesn't know!_ (Theory of mine states that you can be in love with as many people as you wish but your match is right beneath your nose and you don't know it! (Not bad for a girl whose only had one boyfriend, eh? ;)) So, basically, he's still in love with Christy, but he loves our Peggy Sue also, but he doesn't know it yet, all right? All right. All right. Woot.

* * *

"Dearest Meg," The Emperor said, taking Meg's hand in her dressing room. "I feel like I have known you forever." Meg was really hoping he wasn't going to propose. Oh, please don't. "You must know that I am helpless without you, and I love you!" 

Love Meg? How could he possibly love her? He had only known Meg for a few days! He didn't know anything about her- this was insane; the Emperor had gone mad. She glanced over at her mother who was knitting in the corner and playing chaperone. Madame Giry was straining to hear every word. Meg felt cornered.

"So I have come here tonight as your biggest fan, begging as your humble and loving servant for you to put me out of my misery and consent to…" he was dragging his fingers over her arm. It was tickling her and she never felt so uncomfortable in her life. The Emperor got down on his knees. OH NO!

Meg was quite sure that her mother was having an epileptic fit, because she was bouncing up and down in her chair, as giddy as a schoolgirl. Or a mother that just happened to be chaperoning her daughter as she was being proposed to by an international ruler.

"…be my wife." Eh? "Will you be my wife?" he said again, not exactly sure if Meg had heard him. She wasn't exactly sure if she heard him herself.

Maybe she was just very shocked, or maybe she really did like the Emperor, somewhere very, very, VERY deep down, but she said "Yes," without ever deciding to.

The Emperor let out a little squeal of happiness and without warning, swooped down and kissed her.

To be honest, it was very awkward. He was kissing her teeth, because she was just about to take back her words of consent- oh, too late. Well, she hoped her teeth tasted all right. He kissed her properly the next try. She smiled, but it took all the acting talent she had.

He slipped a very large ring onto her left hand. The ring was huge; the diamonds larger than her thumbnail, and it had one large ruby in the middle of it.

Now, to be fair it was a very nice looking ring, but Meg was a very big fan of moderation, especially when engagement rings were concerned. Yes, simple but elegant. That's the style Meg loved.

"Oh, Marguerite," Madame Giry exclaimed, coming over. Her eyes were moist. Was she really _crying_? "I am so happy for you!" She gave her daughter a hug.

"We must be wed by the end of the month," the Emperor said to Meg's mother. "I simply can't wait any longer."

So Meg's life was signed away while she sat, dazed, on her vanity chair. That was, until her mother declared that they were late and that Meg needed to dress for the night's Opera.

* * *

"Girls, girls" Madame Giry said, ushering all the dancing girls into place for Act One of _Faust. _"Quick! Quick!" Meg arrived in her starting point at exactly the right time before the curtain came up, and moved into her position. She noticed she was still wearing her engagement ring. Too late to take it off now! 

Carlotta, as per usual, hammed up the stage with her singing. Meg was worried the audience would boo during the first act, but they seemed to like it. They even tossed roses onto the stage after her aria about how she was worried about Faust's mental health.

In fact, it seemed the audience was most displeased with the ballet than with the Prima Donna and her squeaky notes.

Meg realized that Carlotta most likely had friends in high places.

During the end of Act One, Meg noticed that Box Five was suddenly occupied. She prayed it was Erik, and not one of the Managers. They had caused so much trouble already. She knew Erik would not permit any more misconduct with the managers. His paper-thin patience had long since worn out. The figure was wearing a billowing cloak, with its collar turned up, like Erik did, and was that a fedora-

"Meg!" Little Jammes whispered in her ear. "Have you gone mad? Dance!" Meg then realized that she had been staring at the Box, transfixed for about five minutes. Meg, blushing, resumed the dance that her Mother had choreographed.

Her dance partner threw her much harder than necessary, she noted, on one of the jumps.

The intermission passed all too quickly and once again Carlotta pranced about on the stage to a lot of clapping and bravos.

Meg delivered her lines gracefully, and successfully wooed the audience with her solo dance, much to Carlotta and Little Jammes' huffy surprise.

* * *

"Gentlemen," Erik said, throwing his voice right by their ears. "I believe you are sitting in my box!" 

"Do not stir, Firmin," Andre said, dressed in his finest suit. "Do not show-"

The Punjab Lasso circled his neck. Firmin yelped and ran out of the room, but Erik was going to make an example of Monsieur Andre. He tightened the lasso, so Andre couldn't breathe, and flung the rope over the buttress.

It might crack, but Erik would replace it without anyone noticing. Pulling on the rope, Andre was lifted higher, and finally he stopped shrieking and kicking. He was dead.

Dragging Andre's body by the noose, he put him on the stage catwalk, over looking the ballet. He could even see Meg performing. Erik tied the body up onto the catwalk and kicked it over. In his calculations it should fall right at the end of the Opera. He laughed.

It would be enjoyable to see the audience's reaction to his little present. So he settled back down in Tier One, Box Five and watched the rest of Act One in peace.

The final curtain call for _Faust_. Meg was beginning to think that it would never take place. Carlotta took another bow, and then it was time for the chorus members. Meg, as she was the lead dancer, had her own bow. She moved forward, and was about to bow, when something fell from the catwalk down to the stage. It snapped down, and then bounced back up a bit. Meg looked up. It was a body, and it was right near her head!

Meg screamed and fell back. The rope broke and fell on the stage. Ballet girls ushered around Meg, making sure she was alright.

"My God!" Someone cried, "Its one of the Managers!"

The Opera House exploded in pandemonium. The audience was ushered out of the auditorium.

"The Ghost! The Ghost is back!"

"The chandelier! Is it secure?"

"It's HER!" Little Jammes said, cutting through themayhem and pointing to Meg. "It's Meg's fault!"

Madame Giry scooped up Meg in her arms. "Mariette, what are you talking about?"

"The managers didn't want her to be the lead dancer, and she had the Ghost kill them!" Little Jammes screamed. The ballet girls looked at one another, and mutters went around the stage that it made sense.

"Everyone knows that Meg and the Ghost are accomplices!" Little Jammes yelled, twisting the proverbial knife.

"Yes, that's right!" The smallest ballerina yelled. "Odette, do you remember the threat he made?"

"Yes I do!" Odette yelled. The ballet girls advanced on to Meg and her mother.

"I didn't tell Erik to kill Monsieur Andre!"

"Oh, so it's _Erik_, is it?" Little Jammes cried. "You have just sunk yourself! She will kill us all! We will not be safe from her in the Ghost unless she is gone from the Opera Populaire! Throw her out of the Opera House!"

By undeniable evidence, the ballet girls and actors flung out Meg out of the Opera House and into the pouring rain.

"NO!" Meg said, banging on the Opera door. "No, I am innocent!" She slid down and wept at the side of the doorframe, her head in her arms.

Meg stood out in the pouring rain for six hours, shivering uncontrollably, until Erik found her.

* * *

(Sorry, guys, the chapter was very long and I decided to cut it. HOWEVER, I will update extremely, extremely soon. As in tomorrow.) 

And I don't have a review song this chapter… I don't have any songs right now! So any suggestions?

Love you guys, and please don't forget to review,

Lemony


	9. Finding Meg

Chapter IX- Finding Meg

**Little Known Fact**- 'Mariette' means 'Little Bitter'!

Also, I would like to point out that Meg's reaction to Erik's face is entirely plausible, because I had the same reaction to Lon Chaney's Erik. Therefore, plausible! Hurrah!

Oh, and didn't Beyonce's rendition of '_Learn to be Lonely'_ rock? Seriously.

Oh, and I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my best guy friend Matt, who fed me chocolate and read this story, and gave me enough support to get over writer's block.

* * *

What was the foolish girl doing in the rain? Erik was looking her bent over figure, which was shivering in the rain. Dear God, was she crying _again?_ She always cried. Well, she did look pretty silly sitting there in the rain, crying. Especially after she had just triumphed on stage. 

He touched her shoulder lightly, and she looked up. Her kohland eye shadow ran down her face and she looked like a clown. He started, then trying not to laugh, offered her his hand. She took it. Even through his perfect white gloves, he could feel that her hand was freezing and damp, and Meg sniffled. He pulled her up so she could stand.

Looking around for any ballet girls or actors, he unbuttoned his cloak and gently draped it around Meg's shoulders. He adjusted the way it was hanging off of her. He didn't really know why he was paying so much attention to this girl. She was just like all the other ballet girls, outspoken, superstitious, and silly. All the qualities that made him so aggravated. And yet… oh, _damn_ it.

It was pointless to analyze it. He took her hand and led her to his house.

Okay, was she imagining it, or was he actually touching her? Ugh, she was feeling terrible. She hoped she hadn't caught a cold from the downpour. It would be terrible if she came down with something right after _Faust_. It was all Little Jammes' fault if it was.

How could Little Jammes do that? She knew perfectly well that Meg was innocent. Why would Jammes do that? (Besides the fact that she had no heart and locked innocent people out of the Opera House!) Meg just couldn't understand.

She did have to admit that it was awfully kind of Erik to lend her his cloak. She couldn't recall a time when he was without it.

She allowed him to lead her to his Lair, happy to get out of the rain and into someplace dry.

"Erik," she said, feeling slightly faint. Erik turned back at her. She looked at him, just inspecting him, and then fainted.

* * *

He caught her before she hit the ground, and lifted her up easily. She weighed nothing, practically. Erik strongly thought that his cloak was the heaviest thing he was carrying. 

He felt her forehead, and it was scalding hot. Why was she out in the rain anyway? She was such a stupid girl.

He kicked the door open to his Lair and decided that Christine's old room would do for her. Erik laid Meg down on the bed, and covered her up in the blankets, wet tutu and all. She moaned, tired.

He pondered his situation. He could compromise his reputation and get Meg out of those wet clothes, or he could wait until she got up, extract permission to get her of those clothes, and risk her developing influenza, and possibly dying.

So there really wasn't anything he could do. He shook Meg until she woke up. She glared at him, and said "What?" in a very annoyed fashion.

"We need to get you out of those clothes." He said, gesturing. Meg looked down and plucked at her ruined costume. She looked shocked that she was still in her tutu.

"Oh," She said. She moved the covers and lowered herself down. "Do you have anything I can borrow?"

Erik left the room, looking for anything. He came back with some pants that he had outgrown, and a very frilly shirt.

Meg wore that the rest of the day.

* * *

When Meg was feeling better, she asked Erik to play her something on the violin that was sitting in the corner, it looked lonely. He obliged, and started to play 'The Resurrection of Lazarus'. He even sang to it. 

That was, until he noticed what was on Meg's left hand ring finger. "Whose ring is _that?_" He growled. Meg jumped, and looked around, wondering what he was talking about.

"Oh," Meg said, sadly looking at the ring. "The Emperor proposed."

"WHAT?" He said, standing up and pacing around the room.

"I didn't want him to!" Meg said, leaning forward toward his pacing figure. "I was totally caught in surprise!"

"And I suppose that you two will be married at the end of the year?" he said, dragging his hand through his hair.

"Um," Meg said, "Not really."

"Next year, then?"

"No, actually the end of the month."

"WHAT? But the end of the month is two weeks from now!"

"I know Erik." Meg said. "I don't like him… his personality is childish, he dresses terribly, for royalty…"

"Meg," Erik said, quietly, almost to himself. Was Meg dreaming, or did he actually call her 'Meg'? Did he actually get the hint?

"What I don't understand is how he found out my name…" Meg said, looking down at the pink comforter. "I was told that he…" She stared at Erik, examining him for the second time. For the first time she actually wondered what was behind the Mask. Would he be mad at her if she asked to see behind the mask? Surely if she asked he wouldn't be mad. It would be better than just snatching it off.

Erik had resumed playing the violin. Meg realized that she felt much calmer whenever Erik played. He was bewitching. It was like her soul was crying for more of the music, and she was living on every part of it, like it was her breath.

Was she really supposed to feel that way about him? Especially when she was engaged? And the man who made her feel this way was not her fiancé, but also a murder? And who had also stalked her most particular friend? Was that right?

Maybe it wasn't right, but goodness knows, she liked the feeling. And maybe her mother wouldn't approve that she might or might not have fallen in love with a person who constantly leaves the Opera House in various stages of terror. Or that she left an Emperor for a man who dodges the law on a daily basis.

But who ever said love turned out perfectly was a fool. If love was perfect, she'd be ecstatic that the Emperor wanted to marry her, Meg Giry, a lowly dancer. And perhaps she would always be second fiddle to Christine. She had done it once; she could certainly do it again. Maybe eventually his heart would heal, and Meg would be the first in his heart.

Then again, she could waste away vying for his affections, while he wasted away vying for Christine's. It would so be Meg's luck.

And yet she wondered what was behind the Mask. "Erik," she whispered, without thinking.

"Yes?" he said.

"Will you… take off your mask?" She said. "Please?"

Well, why not? Finally a reason to get this stupid girl off of his back. And why shouldn't he? He had done almost everything in his power to repel her. Why hadn't she gone away? She was like a boomerang. An unpleasant, superstitious boomerang. Who had blonde hair.

Did he mention she was annoying?

So why shouldn't he take off his mask? So he would. It would be amusing to see her reaction. Would she scream and faint? Or would she perhaps weep and beg him to put it back on? Or maybe a bizarre mix of both, perhaps.

"You want to see my face?" He growled. "Fine. See Monster Erik's face!"

And so he took off the mask. At first, Meg was a bit disgusted, true. But it melted away soon enough. She felt pity, and confusion. It could be so much worse, why was he being bullied so much?

"Poor, poor Erik!" she cried, and hugged him. It was probably the last thing he expected, to be hugged. She wasn't really expecting it herself, it just felt right. She noticed that Erik did not push her away this time.

"Christine," he murmured, barely audible. The violin and its bow slipped out of his hands and fell onto the floor with a soft 'clump'. A single tear from Meg's eye slithered down her cheek and landed on Erik's head.

* * *

**Okay, response to review time!**

**Cloud in Crimson- **What will Firmin do? Well, he does wear black for the rest of the year. Poor Firmin and Andre, they are so obviously in love. :Giggles:

**LenisVox-** LOL. I had the same reaction- I thought I was being original with Meg/Erik. Aw, thank you. Erik is so hard to write, IMO. He's sooo… unpredictable.

**TinkChan-** Wow! I'm so honored:bows:

**Girls Lie Too- **Woo! Finally I create a character that is truly dispisable! WOO! Thank you for reviewing!

**BDP- **The answer is: VERY!

AND A VERY SPECIAL THANK YOU TO SAKUME, WHO WAS MY EIGHTIETH REVIEWER!

Thank you very much for reviewing, everyone!

Please review this chapter as well!

:Makes Erik play a wordless review song on his Violin of Lurve:

Unfortunately, I'm still in my slump for review songs… so none for this chapter. Perhaps next?

Well, don't forget to aim me, (XxoCindyrellaoxX) and happy Oscars!


	10. Repairing the Damage

Okay, so maybe you guys didn't think Beyonce was all that good. Oh well. We shall agree to disagree.

Chapter X- Repairing the Damage

* * *

"Come, we must return," Erik said, softly. "Your mother will be missing you." 

So they reemerged three hours after Erik found Meg, and a good nine hours since both _Faust _and Monsieur Andre's life had ended.

Meg returned to her frantic mother and explained where she had been. Madame Giry was very angry that Meg had slept in Erik's bed (Meg had tried to explain that she had actually slept in Christine's bed, but her mother said she had never heard such a flimsy excuse) and reminded her that good, nice girls waited until they were married.

Meg saw it was pointless to argue, so she remained silent. Her mother, however sensible she was, would never understand.

The Emperor was the next to greet her. He showered her with kisses.

"Dearest," he whispered into her ear. "I came as quick as I could. Oh, I was so frightened for you." He held her close. "It must be the Ghost's fault. He has killed that nice Monsieur Andre, and now he has threatened your safety!" he kissed Meg's forehead and then her cheek.

She wished he would stop- he was embarrassing her.

"When I find the Ghost, I will put my steel," The Emperor pulled his sword out of his scabbard and looked at it, menacingly. "Through his heart!"

Meg paled at the Emperor's declaration. The last thing she wanted was the Emperor's steel through Erik's heart. Suddenly, Meg felt faint again.

"My darling," the Emperor cooed at her, and cradled her face in his hands. "You needn't worry for my safety."

Meg looked up at him. She was worried about the Emperor's safety? No, that was not it, not at all. Erik was the one who she cared for.

"I will make sure he never lays a hand on you again."

It would have been so easy to fall in love with him. He had everything; money, power, good temper, and he was extremely handsome. All those qualities and still she felt nothing but animosity towards this man.

She wondered, perhaps if she had not fallen in love with Erik, if the Emperor might have been the One.

She would never know.

* * *

In Meg's last week of being an unmarried woman, Madame Giry gave all the ballerinas the day off so she could take Meg and her bridesmaids dress shopping. 

Meg tried dress after dress after dress on before she found the perfect one.

It was tucked in the corner of the shop, and was a little dusty and a bit out of style, but Meg fell in love with it immediately. It was modestly cut and had long sleeves that were outlined in small white fake flowers. The hem was also covered with them. Her skirt opened to reveal a white petticoat.

It was perfect, her dream dress, and when she wore it, she felt like the princess she would be at the end of the week.

Her bridesmaids (who were all ballerinas) cooed about how beautiful she looked in her gown and how the Emperor would be so in love with her when he saw her in this dress.

Meg stared at herself in the mirror and fixed some imperfect things that she saw, while her mother and La Sorelli argued whether or not Meg should wear her hair up.

"Oh, Meg," Odette cooed at her, putting the veil on Meg's head carefully. "You look like an angel."

Meg looked up and smiled half heartedly at Odette. Madame Giry had explained to Meg that the ballet girls had somehow come to the realization that they had better be nice to Meg- her social connection was too much to pass up.

And it hadn't hurt that the Emperor had warned everyone to be nice to his bride-to-be, or else.

Meg noted it wouldn't be wise to say anything to the Ballet Girls until she was safely married and on her honeymoon.

Come to think of it, where was the Emperor going to take her on their honeymoon? He had not mentioned it before.

Ah, well, it didn't matter.

* * *

In a whirl the dress was bought, paid for, and Meg once again was back at the Opera Populaire… 

…And it was time for her dancing lessons with Erik. She definitely didn't feel up to it. She was tired, she felt ill, she was about to get married and the nerves were getting to her… she had those excuses ready for Erik and his Dancing Lessons.

She wished she never thought of them in the first place. She looked in her vanity drawers, frantically searching for her favorite pink hair ribbon. Her father had given it to her before he died, and she had so wanted to wear it today.

A hand touched her shoulder, and Meg screamed. She turned around, and Erik covered her mouth with her hand.

"Are you mad?" He whispered. "Do you want to call everyone here?"

She shook her head. She was just surprised, that was all. Meg recited her excuses to Erik, who rolled his eyes, and grabbed her wrist and led her down to his house.

They were still in the tunnel to Erik's house when he spoke; "The ballerinas were not at practice today."

'Nice observation,' Meg thought. "Mama gave the ballerinas the day off to take me dress shopping. For the wedding, you know."

Erik turned around and looked at her. "You are still marrying that man?"

"Well, of course." She said. Well, hadn't she just said that she was going dress shopping? "He's in love with me, and…"

Erik ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "You can't marry him!"

"And why not?" Meg said, slightly insulted. "I can marry whoever I want, Erik, you can't just go around dictating who marries who…"

"I dictate because people are fools!" He yelled.

"It is not for you to decide!" She yelled right back. It was a strange thing- they both annoyed each other, but they also loved each other. Well, at least one did. Meg wasn't so sure about Erik's feelings for her.

Wait a moment. Hadn't her mother told her a long time ago that she was to marry an Emperor when she gotten older? And the person that she said told her was…

Erik.

"You told the Emperor my name, didn't you?" She said, loathing him for a minute. "If you are so adverse to the idea of me marrying him, you shouldn't have given him my name!"

"You are a meddlesome fool." Erik said, flicking his cloak and turning his back on her.

"Excuse me, Monsieur," Meg said, feeling brave. "I am not the person who sends regular notes to the managers, telling them how to run the Opera Populaire- _their _Opera House!"

"I helped to design this building! So if not for me, you and your mother would not have a home!"

"You," Meg said, utterly revolted at his comment. "are a selfish pig."

"And you, my lady, are a virago." He said, making a sweeping mock bow.

"Martinet!"

"Shrew!"

"Despot!"

"Termagant!"

"Stickler!"

He walked toward her. Suddenly afraid, she backed up. He backed her into the wall and she closed her eyes, thinking he might hit her. Instead, she was kissed. Hard, on the lips. Like he had held it in a long time, and lost all control and let his instinct come over him.

And boy, did she like it. It was like fire in her soul, and she had never been kissed like that before. However, she had almost no experience in kissing- the Emperor's teeth kiss had been her first kiss and it certainly hadn't caused _this _reaction!

How in the world would she get married to the Emperor _now?_ After _this?

* * *

_

Okay, guys! Are you excited! Only three more chapters and then we are DONE. (Well, two chapters and a short epilogue, but still.)

Okay, just a bit of review response:

**Diana-Lupin:** You are correct! The whole thing was planned. I was very, very happy you got that! You get the Golden Sleuth Award:presents Diana-Lupin the Golden Sleuth Award:

**Mallie**- I was wrong about the Mascara. However, I wasn't too far off. The sight I looked it up said it was invented in like, 1905 or sometime around there. (However the word mascara was changed to kohl, which I definitely know existed, because that was around in Ole Cleopatra's time.) Thank you for alerting me about my mistake!

**Foreveriseternallymine: **

:sings:  
Have you met my good friend Forever?  
The silliest girl on the block!  
You'll know her the minute you see her,  
She's the one who really likes Beyonce's frock.

:goes off singing and skipping:

That said, please R. E. V. I. E. W.

Please…?


	11. You Know Who I Am

Chapter XI- You Know Who I Am

* * *

The week ended much too soon to be believed, and Meg's wedding had approached.

Meg heard them playing the tune. Her mother pulled the veil over Meg's head and led to the entrance of the church. Madame Giry, the matron of honor, gathered the train of Meg's dress, and nodded at the ushers, who opened the door for the Bride and the Matron of Honor.

Everyone in the vicinity stood and looked at Meg gliding down the aisle. It seemed to take an eternity to get to the Emperor, who was beaming like a fool at the Alter.

He reached out a hand to Meg when she had stepped into range. She slipped her fingers into his. He was not wearing gloves.

Erik always wore gloves.

No, she would not think of _Erik_ on her wedding day. For goodness sakes, this was supposed to be the best day of her life. So why did she want to throw herself into the Seine?

Well, it really was all Erik's fault. He made that prediction to her mother all those years ago, given the Emperor her name, be mad about the engagement, kiss her, and not be in the least guilty? So it really was his fault. Meg was just pawn of social alliances- Opera Ghost style. Now, enough about him. Meg needed concentrate on the sacred vows she would be vowing.

So the Bride and Groom knelt in front of the Alter and the priest, who began the ceremony- in Latin. Meg had never learned Latin! He spoke French, why couldn't he speak French during the wedding?

The Emperor was looking at her again. Goodness, she felt silly with him looking at her like that. It felt like she had something on her face.

And they received communion, and all too soon it was time for the vows. The Priest blabbed on in Latin and then there was a pause. "I do," the Emperor said, in French. Well, at least the Emperor spoke Latin. They could attend church services.

She wondered if Erik could speak Latin. He did have a great number of books.

"I…" Meg said, when the Priest had finished, or so she had hoped. "I do."

It sealed her fate. Erik had not come to rescue her, as she had secretly hoped. She had been too meek- she should have broken off the wedding to the Emperor when she had the chance.

The Priest blabbed some more in Latin, before finally, blessedly, pronouncing in French- "By the power invested in me, I pronounce you man…"

"STOP!" A voice came, it seemed to come from everywhere, yet nowhere. And Meg knew the owner of the voice all too well.

"Erik!" she cried, taking her hand out of the Emperor's.

A black figure stood on the organ bench in the balcony. His cloak seemed to float around him and a white mask covered his face. It wasn't a dream- Erik had really come!

"Do not," Erik said, coolly, "marry them."

"You, sir!" The Emperor called up to Erik. "Who are you?"

"Me, sir?" Erik said, curtly. He was not very polite to aristocrats and royalty, especially foppish ones. "I am the Phantom of the Opera!" Behind him, the organ blasted a piece of 'Don Juan Triumphant.'

The Emperor recognized the 'Ghost', and drew his sword. "Why are you here?"

"I am here to claim Miss Giry."

"You can't have her, Monster!" The Emperor yelled, and came to a stance of battle, pushing Meg behind him with his free hand.

The 'monster' insult had the desired effect on Erik. He let out a wild yell of fury and jumped off the balcony.

The guests were, not surprisingly, ushered out, and a few screamed about chandeliers. The Emperor's body guards were dismissed quickly and told to help with the guests.

In the meantime, the two men circled each other, both with their swords drawn. Erik had something tied to the handle of his sword- whatever it was, it was pink.

They both rushed at each other at the same time, and steel clashed together. Erik threw the Emperor's blade off of his and managed a good swipe at his cheek. However, the Emperor dodged.

They really had no idea they were being sacriligions. They seemed to forget they were in a church.

"What's this?" The Emperor cried during a parry. He pulled the pink thing from Erik's sword.

"How dare you!" Meg said. "That's Erik's!"

"On the contrary," the Emperor said, laughing at Erik, who looked (dare she say it?) embarrassed. "Lady, he has stolen your hair ribbon and used it as a love token to protect him in battle!"

Was it really? Now that the Emperor mentioned it, it was Meg's ribbon. But Erik had not stolen it; Meg had probably dropped it somewhere. Hopefully.

"Are you in love with her, Phantom?" The Emperor said, mean spiritedly. "Do you really think she'd choose you, when she could have the world?"

Erik's eyes lit up a powerful shade of yellow, dropped his sword, and ran insanely at the Emperor.

He clasped his hands around the man's throat and squeezed, relishing in it.

"Erik, oh God, stop it!" Meg screamed at him. Erik seemed not to hear her.

The Punjab Lasso was once again around an aristocrat's throat and secured in wrought iron (then the portcullis, now the spiraling stairs up to the Chorus Balcony) and a girl in white crying and pleading for Erik to stop.

"Choose!" Erik yelled at Meg. "Your King or your Angel! Choose carefully because someone will die either way!"

"Erik, please!" she begged, weeping, knowing exactly what Erik ment.

If she chose the Emperor, Erik would kill both the Emperor and himself. If she chose Erik, he'd kill the Emperor anyway.

"CHOOSE!" he screamed.

Deciding, she strode towards Erik, and calmly took his mask off. The Emperor blanched at Erik's unmasked face, and Erik tightened the lasso's grip.

She smiled at him through her tears, and kissed him. It was like fireworks… like her soul had exlploded into million tiny pieces and clung on to any part of Erik her soul could find. "I choose you," she said, solfly, kissing all over his face, forehead, everywhere, before they kissed again. Erik cradled Meg's face so gently it was unbelievable. It was like he was afraid she would break.

But it broke away all too soon, because Erik screamed and Meg realized Erik was not holding the Punjab Lasso anymore.

The Emperor had stabbed Erik in the back, quite literally. He pulled out his sword and stabbed him again.

"NO!" Meg screamed, as Erik gasped and fell to the floor.

Erik had closed his eyes, and sweated in pain. Doing the only thing she could think of to calm him, she sang, "Erik I love you," into his ear. He tried to move his hand, but Meg told him to lay still.

Turning to the Emperor, her face melted into pure hatred. The Emperor had the strangest expression on his face- it was like a man seeing just how capable he was, and he liked it.

"Meg," he said, looking like the fool Meg knew he was. "Thank you for saving my life." He took her hands and tried to tow her away from Erik. "You are finally safe from him… I have avenged Monsieur Andre, and have secured your safety…"

"I didn't save your life!" Meg said, disgusted. "And I don't know what you were told, but I was in no danger with Erik!" She pushed him away. "I can't believe you! You are the most spoiled, selfish man that ever was born!" He staggered back and looked confusedly at Meg.

"Meg, dear…" he said, looking to grab her hands again. "What is wrong? What have I done?"

"What have you done? You have killed the man that I love!" She said, screeching at him, and pulled her hands out of reach. "Leave us!"

The Emperor's heart broke in two, then in half again. "Meg," he said, crying a bit. He left the chapel, perhaps for good.

Meg turned back to Erik, bent down, and ripped up her wedding dress of her dreams, all the way up to her knees, and bandaged his wounds with her ruined skirt.

* * *

Okay guys. I know that this might come as a disappointment that the Emperor was not slaughtered, but he actually ended up with a much worse punishment, IMO.

Oh, and yes, that 'Erik I love you' was supposed to be in tune to the 'Christine I love you' at the end of the musical.

Two more chapters until the end!

:Wipes away a tear.:


	12. One Hand, One Heart

Chapter XII- One Hand, One Heart

* * *

"Now are you going to help me, or do I have to call the police," She said, shaking the stubborn Cab Driver's cravat. His head flip flopped around. "And tell them you refused to aid a lady?"

"N-no, Lady," the Cab driver said, becoming nervous at the sound of the police coming anywhere near him. "I'll just go help you get that nice gentleman into my cabby." Meg smiled sardonically, and tapped her fingers against her crossed arms. He climbed down and glared at her before setting inside the church, murmuring something about crazy women and how they always stopped him on his hour breaks.

He literally dragged Erik out so roughly that Meg was worried he'd hurt Erik even more than he already was. He almost threw him into the carriage and slammed the door behind him.

Well, he wasn't getting a tip, that's for sure. She arranged Erik in the seat so his head rested on her shoulder. He was unconscious- he had lost too much blood. Would she have to take him to a doctor? It couldn't be safe. She was locked in a situation she couldn't get out of, and it scared her.

If she took him to a doctor, he would be recognized, arrested, and then hung for four murders. And if the Emperor testified, Meg's 'rape' and his attempted murder would be added to the list. And she would have to sit and watch it all. So, no doctor.

But she couldn't just ignore his wounds either. It would be sentencing him to death. What was she to do? She could ask Mama, she always knew what to do. She was always so wise.

Wait a moment. Mama. She always treated smaller wounds for the ballet girls- like that one time when Odette broke her ankle from _Swan Lake_- Mama had set Odette's ankle with ease. And that one time when Joseph Buquet fell on a large nail. Mama had healed him.

So it was decided. She would call on Mama.

She wondered if it was alright to… no one was looking. The Cab Driver had already gotten half way to the Opera House, so he would not be glancing in. So she slipped her hand in his. They were rather cold (she had stripped his gloves off and used them as bandages, to help stop the bleeding) and a bit clammy. A few seconds later his fingers curled around hers.

Meg felt comfortable, and excepted. Like she had finally beat Christine at something. She loved Erik more than anything, and she always would.

* * *

Erik had the strangest dream. He dreamt that he was rescued by an Angel. But it wasn't the Angel of Music… he dreamed at first that the angel had Christine's face. She sang to him softly. He looked up and Christine's face changed into Meg's. For some reason, he had never been so happy to see her in his life. Relief swam over him and he smiled at her. She caressed his face, and her green eyes told him how much she loved him.

Loved… him? It wasn't possible. An unbelievable, disgusting falsehood. And yet…

Why did he do all these things that he did? He went off to stop the wedding without thinking, he took Meg's hair ribbon and tied it two his _sword, _of all things, kissed her not only once, but twice, and loved every moment of it, and he took two stabs in the back for her.

And he felt like a dog ready to die for her, just like he had for Christine. He had felt once that he would never get over Christine, and would spend the rest of his existence mourning the loss of her. He still loved Christine, it was true. A part of him always would, even until his dying day he would love her.

Yet Meg was different. She was special. She was like the North Star blinking through the darkness, and the only color in a spectrum of black and grey. He loved her. It was why he was willing to lay down his life for her. Even though she was an annoying, superstitious boomerang with blonde hair, he loved her.

And she loved him right back. Her green eyes didn't lie to him. The look in Christine's eyes had never looked like Meg's. Even when he let Christine go- the moment he redeemed himself through all that wickedness that he had done for her, and when she looked back while the Viscount paddled her away across the lake, it was never like this.

This one moment.

The Meg-Faced-Angel took his hand. Her hand was warm and inviting. He curled his fingers over hers, protecting them for whatever came their way.

* * *

The Cab Driver dropped them off at the corner of the Opera Populaire. Meg would never know how she got both herself AND Erik down into his house (perhaps it was adrenaline?), but she did. She even tucked him in, and then set off again to fetch her mother, who would be undoubtedly waiting in her apartment for news from Meg.

"Oh, my Darling!" Madame Giry cried when she saw who was knocking at her door. "I was so worried about you!" She cradled Meg in her arms. Meg, who felt comfort in her mother's arms, began to weep.

"Mama, I don't know who else to turn to," she said. "Erik's hurt badly and you are the only one I can trust."

"My God," Madame Giry said, utterly stunned. "You don't mean- my God, Marguerite, you can't be in love with-,"

"I am, Mama, and I am begging you," She said. "He is dying right now, and I do not know what I will do if you do not help me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Madame Giry said, looking at her daughter like she had grown two heads.

"Mama," Meg said, beginning to be extremely worried. "I will explain everything later. Please,"

Her mother stared at her. Meg supposed that she was considering. Madame Giry pushed her daughter out of the way and almost ran down the hallways. Meg sprinted to keep up. She slammed the doors of Erik's house open and closed behind her, leaving Meg to meekly open and close the doors behind her.

* * *

Madame Giry looked at Erik, who had awoken suddenly at Madame Giry's slamming the door. Meg meekly opened and closed the door behind her.

"What have you done to yourself?" Madame Giry said, obviously annoyed. The question was unanswered as both man and woman were stunned at Madame Giry's actions. Pushing Erik flat on the bed, she ripped the bandages off without ceremony (Erik yelped at this) and poured some alcohol she had confiscated off of a male stagehand while she was walking to Erik's house.

Erik swore, and tried to move away from Madame Giry's clutches. "Are you insane?" He yelled at her. "That hurt!" Meg paled sufficiently.

Madame Giry bandaged up Erik's wounds again (which had stopped bleeding as much), got up from the bed, and moved to the bed. She gave one dramatic sniff, said "Be happy," and left the premises.

Erik and Meg just stared at each other. "Does she always act like that when she heals the ballet girls?" He said.

"No," she said, stunned. "She must like you." Laughing, she collapsed on the bed, and smiled up at him. "She didn't hurt you even more, did she?"

"I hope not." He said, frowning.

He was about to lean down and kiss her, she supposed, when she got nervous and moved away. "Um, would you like some water?" She smoothed out the skirt of her hopelessly ripped wedding dress.

He leaned back against the headboard and nodded. She excused herself from the room and ran to the water pump. Where she beat herself up for leaving the room… especially under the circumstances where she could have been kissed by Erik if she stayed.

Well, she was really thirsty, so it wasn't a lie. It was just very stressful- her mother had just nursed Erik (Meg really wanted to do it herself, but her mother really was the only one capable), and… well… it was just strange.

She pumped the water into the cup and drank it, then pumped it in again, this time for Erik. She carried it back to the room and presented it to Erik, crawled over him, and came to rest snuggling up against him, her head on Erik's shoulder.

"I should leave town." He said, quietly. "Get away from Paris…"

"_We_ should leave town." She said.

"What?" Erik looked at her. "You aren't coming."

"Of course I am!" Meg said, sitting up straight and away from Erik. She was insulted. "I won't stay behind."

"Yes, you are." Erik said. "Because if I am caught by the police, I don't want you anywhere near me."

"I am coming whether you like it or not." Meg declared, looking up at the ceiling and crossing her arms in a pout.

It was a battle of wills for three minutes, until, finally, _"Fine!" _Erik snapped. "Fine. You want to come? You can come. But I swear before God, Marguerite Giry, if you do not flee at the very SIGHT of police I will throw you out myself."

She turned to him in delight and smiled. He melted, and looked at her in that adoring way she'd only see him use when he was looking at Christine.

It was utter devotion.

"We can live in the country," She commented, leaning back against him. He put his arm around her shoulders. "And have a small little house with lots of flowers, have ten kids," Erik really hoped she was joking with that statement- "and we can walk around the park on Sundays."

How did she know? How did she know that's what he dreamt of since… well, he didn't know exactly, but for a long time.

It was very strange. Everything he wanted in life… well, except for the ten children. Perhaps one or two, at most. He had a feeling he wouldn't make a very good father.

Meg would never leave his side, ever. They would live out their fantasy, and just _be_. Nothing would stop them from being together, not even death.

* * *

**Authors Note- **THIS IS NOT THE END. REPEAT- THIS IS NOT THE END.There is still the Epilogue, so don't nobody go nowhere, okay?

So how did you guys like it…? I don't really know. I love Erik in this chapter, (he's so cuddly!) but he's probably a little OOC (If so, I sincerely apologize).

Also, I wanted to say that the adoring look? I am so jealous of Meg. Seriously, why can't Erik look at us like that!

Well, it's also been suggested that I write a sequel. Well… I don't know. I haven't planned a sequel… do you all think it's a good idea? I suppose I could cut down a bit of what I'd planned for in the epilogue and put it in a sequel (there is a bunch of information I'd had to cut). Do you think it's a good idea? Cause if you don't think so, I wont do it.


	13. Nothing Stops Us Now

Just a short note to say: I AM DOING A SEQUEL! YAAAY! Preview below.

Epilogue- Nothing Stops Us Now

* * *

Meg and Erik packed and left the next morning. They traveled by midnight coach into the country and far, far away from Paris, the Opera Populaire, Firmin, the Emperor, Little Jammes, and last, but certainly not least, Carlotta. They did not regret their decision. 

Erik had bought a house in the country a while ago, and they moved in. Erik had saved his past salaries well, and it allowed them to live in a nice, small house, complete with a garden to Meg's delight.

After a week of settling in, they found a priest to marry them. The wedding was preformed entirely in French, to help the young bride understand exactly what she was getting herself into (she still said 'oui' without a thought).

They still lived in fear of the police. Whenever there was a knock on the door, breath always caught in their throats, and Erik would always have Meg hide in the closet (this surprised many callers, when the lady of the house emerged from a _closet_.)

Erik had bought a piano forte for the living room and often played for Meg, who danced around the room. Sometimes she attempted to play the piano, but played it so badly that Erik (and a few servants) asked her to please stay away from it.

So instead of playing the piano, Meg sketched. Her favorite drawing (_Artist's Husband Reading Byron Aloud_) was framed in beautiful mahogany and hung above the mantel. Erik was very shy about being a model for Meg.

Madame Giry, though somewhat disappointed that Meg never married the Emperor, came to visit Meg and Erik during the Christmas, Easter, and New Year holidays. She kept Meg up-to-date in all the Paris gossip, and what Raoul and Christine were said to be doing in town. Meg had not heard from Christine since the non-wedding to the Emperor.

Even though they lived in fear, they were still deeply in love. Even though Meg's best friend cut her regularly, they still were happy. Even though Madame Giry was slightly disappointed in their choice, they were still happy. And though they didn't live like the proverbial prince and princess, with all the power, wealth, and prestige, they were happy. And that was the most important thing.

THE END.

* * *

Told you it was a short chapter/epilogue. 

Because I love you guys so much, here's a little preview for the sequel (called "You Are My Only One")… IN SKIT FORM! Woot.

**YOU ARE MY ONLY ONE IN FIVE SECONDS**

**Meg:**

Holy Crap! What are you doing here?

**Erik:**

Go hide in the closet!

**Madame Giry:**

I'm going to be in the sequel!

**L. Jammes:**

…I might be!

**Christine:**

I like cutting my best friend!

**The Emperor:**

-is about to say something, but too many tomatoes are thrown at him, and he runs off stage-

**Meg:**

LABOR PAINS!

Okay, so thank you guys for sticking through this story, thick and thin, good times and bad (literally) and when Erik was OOC, and when he wasn't.

Oh, and to cut someone in Victorian society is when you purposely ignore someone in a social outing, in letters, or refusing to come over to someone's house (a la Christine.)

(Yes, Sakume, it was based off of Gaston. Though the stabbing thing wasn't. I read your review and went, CRAP! Does that make me a bad person:_looks nervous, then throws self out window: _)


End file.
